


These Lives We Live

by WyrdSister



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe -Never Met In First Grade, Bisexual Male Character, Chance Meetings, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Link centric, M/M, Monologue, No Kids - Freeform, No wives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Road Trips, Slow Build, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyrdSister/pseuds/WyrdSister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> "Good evening, Chia Lincoln, and good evening to all you listeners out there. Today, we're talking about guardian angels." </i>
</p><p>(The year is 2015 and Link Neal is the host of the YouTube talk show,<i>Good Morning Chia Lincoln</i> and the podcast, <i>Good Evening Chia Lincoln </i>. </p><p>This is a look into his life, and the five times he met the man named Rhett McLaughlin.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Lives We Live

**Author's Note:**

> Up front, I just want to say: I realize that Link didn’t get his glasses until sometime after college, but based on the level of blindness he displays on GMM without them (although, having glasses myself, I suppose that could be something to do with a learned dependency on clear vision), I decided to just give Link some eyes. Especially because he’s driving everywhere.
> 
> I have no beta, so all mistakes in this chapter are my fault.
> 
> In regards to writing a fic for IRL people, I would just like to note that I see the characters in this fic as completely separate from Rhett and Link in real life. These are fictionalized versions of the real people we all know and love. I mean no disrespect toward them or their families. More notes at the end of this, but for now-- please enjoy!
> 
> EDIT 1/20/16: I realized that Link would be 21 in May of 2000, not 22, since his birthday is in June.

"Good evening, Chia Lincoln, and good evening to all you listeners out there. Hello!" Link cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses. His hands were trembling worse than usual, and he was glad that, due to the podcast format of his show, Good Evening Chia Lincoln, his listeners wouldn't be able to pick up on it. "Today, we're talking about guardian angels –you know, typically celestial beings that look out for you in life. Now, ah, I don't want to come off as sounding foolish, or naïve, or anything like that. Many of you at home have been sending in messages or commenting directly into SoundCloud recently, saying things like, 'Link, why don't you tell any good stories anymore?', 'Link, tell us more about your childhood'.

"Well, look, guys: there's a finite amount of stories that I –or anyone –can tell about a period of time that is in the past now. I mean…dang, y'all. If I knew this was going to happen, maybe I'd a' done more." He shook his head, laughing a little. "But, ah, anyway, to get back to the point… By now, I think I've made it clear –or at least, I've definitely implied –that today's episode will contain a story, and that it has something to do with guardian angels." Link paused.

In the early days of his video –and later –podcast making, it was true that he'd had a lot more stories to share with his audience. He spoke of his upbringing in Buies Creek candidly, addressing his experiences in high school and in college with a sense of nostalgia. For the last couple of years, as Link's morning talk show, Good Morning Chia Lincoln, had really started taking off, Link had scaled back in the amount of personal information he spilled in his podcast, where he had no guests on and was left to speak on a more personal level.

It wasn't that Link didn't want to share his life stories with his fans –in fact, most of his journeys –his upbringing, how he'd gone to film school, how he'd been content making whacky local commercials until his YouTube videos suddenly shot him into the public eye –it was all out there on the Internet for any interested parties to look into.

What slowed Link from delving into the stories of his past was simple. He had untold vignettes, sure, but most of them were of small things –things that wouldn't have enough substance to make a whole podcast. The fact was, Link's stories came from the present, now, but he was a thirty-six year old single man, living in L.A, and his life revolved around his work.

Link still wanted to share stories, though, and while the crazy misadventures of his current work were entertaining, he personally had been craving something to tell that would give him a sense of nostalgia for the old days in North Carolina. It was then, through reminiscing and trying to find connections in his experiences to create a full podcast, that Link came up with the topic of his latest episode, and once he dared to think of it, he knew that he had to share it all with his listeners.

It was almost surprising, when he thought about it, that he'd never once alluded to the encounters that had, in a way, shaped his life. Link supposed that over the years, he'd filed away the experiences in such a way that he'd come to think of them as his own secrets, as things it wouldn't occur to him to necessarily share. In a way, he wanted to keep it that way, but just imagining sharing his stories aloud on his podcast had given way to a sudden and deep _need_ to do just that.

Now, sitting alone in front of his Blue Microphone, Link took a deep breath and pushed back the wave of nervousness that threatened to overtake him. _Come on, Link_ , he thought, _you committed to making this episode. You can't back out now!_

Link cleared his throat once more and began: "When I say I don't mean to sound foolish, it's because I know that, for one, a lot of people don't believe in the existence of supernatural beings. Look, I'm not saying that I have definitive proof of _angels_  or anything, but I believe that I have a guardian angel, and I guess I would also just like to preface this entire thing by acknowledging that, ah… yes, altogether, this may sound incredible, as in: unbelievable. And maybe some of you will be like, 'Link, I can't believe you never shared this before! Does this mean you're just making it up right now?' And to just go ahead and answer that question: no… I've told stories _around_ this before, and I'm telling you it _now_  -fully -because, well, it seems like the time to do it… You know, I've never known what to make of these times of –of pure _coincidence_ , and maybe that's one reason I've never shared. Maybe you can comment later and let me know what you think…Have I met my guardian angel or not? Comment on SoundCloud or tweet GMCL with the hashtag '#GECL'."

Link gave a short laugh. "I'm hedging now, I know." He stared down at the table in front of him, glancing at Chia Lincoln, who was actually doing pretty well this season, much to everyone's surprise. There was no one else in the studio for the recording of the podcast –there rarely was. Link closed his eyes and sighed again, and felt a certain calmness settle over him. "So, I guess I'll just go on ahead and dive right into this… unpack it all for you. This is my story about –well, call it what you will. Coincidence, chance –fate, even. Crazy, maybe.

"I think I have a guardian angel and his name is Rhett."

 

#

Link received his B.A from N.C State's School of the Arts in May of 2000, and it was a muggy, hot day in July that he got into his car and began driving west.

He'd gotten the idea from Gregg, his college roommate, when, after others from his graduating class had begun lining up studio internships, jobs, and other projects to begin working on after university, Link had sat back, paralyzed with uncertainty. Had he made the right choice, going to film school? Did he have the creative drive to make something good of his life? Could he find success as a filmmaker? He had his family's support, but in his own mind, the future seemed terrifying, its mystery looming over him in towering black clouds of an impending storm.

"Why're you asking me, man?" Gregg said one day, when Link had inevitably started worrying aloud. "Everything you need to know"

"-I already know. I _know_ "

"-and everything you _wanna_ know, it's out there, man. Go look for it. Go to, I dunno, Hollywood or something. See what people are doing there. That's where everyone makes movies, right?"

So, with no other plans, and with just a couple of student films and productions under his belt, Link took his old Canon camcorder, filled his tank with gas, and headed out into the world.

 

He drove northwest, up through most of Virginia and West Virginia before it occurred to him that this in itself was novel. Link had never been beyond the borders of North Carolina before, but highways and stretches of country appeared to be universal.

Cincinnati was smaller than Raleigh, but its buildings seemed sleeker and there was a newness to the city. Link stopped for the evening there, eating dinner in a parking lot of a McDonald's. His plan for the trip was to only sleep in a motel twice in order to keep down on the cost of the whole journey, and so Link drove into a motel parking lot, and pushed down his seat back for sleep.

In the morning, rising with a stiff neck, Link made a note for the future to abandon his frugality when it came to sleeping arrangements, and rather sheepishly brushed his teeth on the side of the road before getting coffee from a Dunkin' Donuts and heading on his way. He called his mother at lunch time, once he'd arrived in Louisville, and afterward, continued on his way west toward St. Louis.

It dawned upon him that he had driven thus far in silence. Even the stereo was off after the poor signal of rural Ohio had led Link to prefer nothing at all over the constant crackling coming in through the speakers. With one hand, Link put his camcorder up on the dashboard and turned it on, hitting record.

"Hey, y'all," Link said. His voice sounded odd on its own. "Uh, it's day two of this road trip. I'm on the I-64 right now, driving through Kentucky. Yeah." Feeling embarrassed despite himself, Link reached to turn off the camcorder. Then he stopped. "Now, I'm not _set_ , exactly, on what the purpose of this is. I mean, I'm just filming myself talking to a camera here. There's nothing cinematic about this, but I dunno. I've got a couple a' days on the open road here and –did that billboard say 'Butt Drugs'?"

 

Butt Drugs in Corydon, Indiana, was an old-timey drug store, complete with a small snack counter that served milkshakes and ice cream.

Inside, as part of the general store within, there was a tiny gift shop –a shelf, to be specific –that was filled with souvenirs reading 'I ♥ BUTT DRUGS'. There was an incredibly tall young man rifling through a box of souvenir magnets, a delighted grin on his face, and he glanced up when Link drew near, giving a polite nod of greeting before resuming his perusal of the magnets.

Link bought a key chain and a vanilla ice cream cone and went outside to the car. He turned on his camcorder and pointed it at the dark green sign over the storefront. "Butt Drugs. It's real, guys…" he said, "I heart Butt Drugs."

 

 

In comparison to the deafening silence of his first day of driving, Link hummed tunelessly, feeling inexplicably cheerful as he drove on toward St. Louis. He veered off the highway, taking the freeway so that he could drive with his windows down and feel the warm summer air running through his hair, and an hour out of the city, Link pulled into a small rest stop before freeway he'd been taking intersected the interstate ahead.

The rest stop was smaller than any Link had previously encountered, made of a gray stone that had been stained black from rainwater, and whose wooden fence was moldy and in disrepair.

There was a man standing out on the heavily-cracked sidewalk near the parking lot when Link emerged from the main building, and as he approached, Link realized it was the same man he'd seen at Butt Drugs. He also realized that this coincidence in itself was difficult to explain, since there were no other vehicles to be seen.

Link stopped a couple of feet short from the man, frowning in confusion. "How'd you get here?" he said.

The guy, who had watched Link approach with a word, shrugged, and shifted the strap of a dark green duffle bag across his shoulders. "Hitched a ride from a trucker," he said, his accent distinctly southern.

Link stared. "You're hitchhiking? Man…  _Why_?" _That's so dangerous_ , he thought.

"Why not?" said the guy. "I can pay some a' the gas money, I just don't have a car."

The man didn't look like a hitchhiker, not that Link had ever given much thought to what one would look like, but the man before him was around his age, and incredibly tall, with a buzzed head, and large, friendly blue eyes. He was wearing a clean, striped t-shirt and a black sports jacket, and he had two small, gold loop earrings, one through each lobe.

When he began shifting from foot to foot, Link realized that he'd been staring without a word for longer than was acceptable. "Where're you headed?" Link blurted, "I'll give you a ride."

The man's expression lit up. He grinned and Link suddenly noticed a faint mole just above his lips. "The Grand Canyon," he said, "Everyone's gotta see it before they die, right?"

Link forced his gaze up to the man's eyes. _What's wrong with you, staring at some other guy's lips_? "Right," he said. "Grand Canyon, huh? That's on my way, I guess. I'm goin' to Hollywood."

"Cool, man. Are you, like, an actor?"

"No, I'm –ah –I went to school for production. Uh…" _What in the world am I doing?_ Link wondered. "I can take you all the way, if you want."

"You sure?" The man frowned, dark eyebrows furrowing slightly. "It's a long way."

"Yeah," Link said with a careful nonchalance. "I mean, it'll be nice to have company. I guess." He added belatedly: "Uh, I'm Link, by the way. I'm from North Carolina."

"Rhett," said the man, "Georgia."

They clasped hands and shook. Rhett's hand was dry and warm, his grip firm.

"You have real shaky hands, man," Rhett remarked. "Are you nervous or something?"

"I'm always shaking," Link said ruefully. He nodded toward his car. "Come on, let's go."

 

 

Traveling with Rhett wasn't as strange as Link thought it might be. After an initial awkwardness, conversation between them had started to flow with ease.

It turned out that Rhett was just seven months older than Link, and had been to Georgia Southern University on a basketball scholarship. He'd graduated with a degree in civil engineering, but decided to take the summer to travel across the country to see the Grand Canyon before he would have to settle down and start working.

"It was this or backpacking through Europe," Rhett said.

"And you chose this?" Link said incredulously.

"Sure. It's more exciting, don't you think?"

"Man, I can't imagine just deciding to head out and hitch _rides_ off a' strangers."

"But you're _giving_ a stranger a ride. Isn't that kind a' the same thing?" Rhett pointed out.

"No," Link said, "I have security in knowing I have a vehicle that will take me where I want to go. If I didn't offer you a ride, you'd still be at that rest stop."

"But your sense of security is an illusion," Rhett argued, "Think about it, I mean, you _think_ you have a secure mode of transportation, but what if your car breaks down in the next minute? What if it gets stolen at the next stop?"

"Well, that's a matter of probability," Link frowned. "I _have_ a car right now."

Rhett shook his head, but Link could tell that he was fighting back a smile. "It's an illusion, Link," he insisted. "Everything's an illusion!"

"You're full of baloney, man," Link grumbled.

Rhett laughed, throwing back his head. He was the type of person who seemed to laugh with all his heart, eyes closed, mouth wide and upturned.

Link forced his eyes back on the road. If he crashed then, he'd prove Rhett right.

 

 

The sun was setting as they reached St. Louis.

The car had fallen into a peaceful silence since they first spotted the arch stretching over the city from almost a mile off, but when Link took the exit ramp into the city, Rhett said, "I heard St. Louis has good barbecue. You know what this means, right?"

It meant, as it turned out, that Rhett had them stop at the St. Louis visiting center first thing in order to interrogate the local behind the desk about the best eateries. It meant that after ten minutes, Rhett returned to Link with a broad grin, waving a map of the city around in the air like it was a winning lottery ticket.

" _Barbecue_ , brother!" Rhett said, holding up his free hand for a high five. "I _love_ barbecue."

Link slapped his palm without a second thought, caught up in Rhett's enthusiasm. "Just make sure you get me the right directions," Link said as they headed back out to the car.

 

The place they'd been directed to was a Midwestern-style, rustic restaurant that stayed open late and, to Rhett's glee, served a variety of barbecued meats. Link and Rhett sat across from each other outside on the patio at one of the small black tables.

Growing up as an only child, Link had been accustomed to more or less silent dinners, since his mother didn't believe in heavy conversation during dinner anyway –it was a choking hazard. In college, Link rarely sat down formally to eat, except on dates, and during those dinners, Link, fraught with uncertainty, kept awkwardly mum.

Rhett had no qualms about conversing in between gnawing at the baby pork-back ribs he'd ordered. "You know, you're an O.K guy, Link," Rhett said, waving a half-eaten rib bone at Link, "But you chew really loudly, anyone ever tell you that?"

Link snorted. "No. At least I'm not _moaning_ , man. What's up with that?"

"It's _good_ ," Rhett said. "Isn't yours good?"

"Yeah, but I'm not about to make _noises_ over it,"

"I'm expressing my appreciation! Like they do in –in, uh, Japan! You know, with those Ramen noodles."

"To what end?" Link said, "There's no one out here except for us. Even if you were providing free _advertising_ services, some of the sounds you were making earlier would –would make children in a Target cry."

Rhett laughed. "A Target?"

"A Target," Link replied. He'd always been good at keeping a straight face, but in the face of Rhett's infectious jollity, Link couldn't help but smile a little in return.

All around them, St. Louis was lit up in the night by street lamps and lit storefronts. As Link drove them away from the city, flashes of light from the street lamps periodically cast the inside of the car with a warm, yellow light.

"D'you mind if I roll down the window?" Rhett asked, speaking in a half whisper that tended to become the default at ten o'clock at night.

"Sure."

The night air was cool coming in through the window, and it woke Link up a little. He pulled into a motel advertising a low twenty-five dollar per night rate, half an hour outside the city and cut the engine. "I'll split a room with you if you promise not to kill me in my sleep and rob me blind," he said.

Rhett stared at Link, an odd look in his eye. "Promise." he said finally.

With that, they disembarked, and Link went into the motel's office to secure a two-bed single room.

The room smelled distinctly of cigarettes and musty carpet, and the room light was flickering and dim besides.

Rhett and Link stood in the doorway uncertainly.

Rhett forced a small laugh. "It's probably a good thing we can't see much," he said.

"Aw, don't make me think about it," Link said with a groan. He forced himself to enter the room and as he washed up for bed, carefully touched as little as possible around the room.

Then Link settled onto the bed near the wall and closed his eyes to sleep. He heard Rhett finish up in the bathroom and emerge, turning off the lights. He turned off the room light first and shuffled across the room to the other bed.

"'Night, Link," he whispered.

"'Night, Rhett."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Link stiffened. "You don't think there're any bed bugs, do you?" he hissed. "Rhett?!"

Rhett merely responded with a low, rumbling laugh.

 

 

In the morning, Link woke up to someone nudging his shoulder, and he rolled over with a grumble to find a man looming over him.

Link reached for his glasses, sliding them onto his face, and by that time, he'd blearily blinked himself into full awareness and had managed to remind himself of the past day's events, recalling that the strange guy towering above him was Rhett The Hitchhiker. "Thanks for not robbing me blind in the night," he blurted.

The corner of Rhett's lips twitched. "No problem," he said, "I got coffee from the check-in office." He held up the Styrofoam cups in his hands as evidence. "D'you know you talk in your sleep?"

"Yeah," Link said, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't say anything too weird, did I?"

"There was definitely something about a tomato chasing you. Is that weird?"

"Sounds about right." Link admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. He showered and changed into fresh clothes, then accepted the lackluster instant coffee Rhett had gotten for him, drinking it as they got back onto the road.

"I've been meaning to ask," Rhett said, "What's the video camera for? You don't really seem like you're doing much sightseeing."

Link looked at the camcorder on the dashboard, "I dunno," he said, "I've been using it for… documentation."

Rhett plucked up the camcorder, turning it around in his hands before opening the playback screen and turning it on. He pointed the recorder at Link. "Say 'hi', Link," he said.

"Hi, Link," he replied, glancing over and waving briefly.

Rhett chuckled and turned the camcorder on himself. "This is Rhett, by the way, for whoever's gonna watch this. Link's taking me to the Grand Canyon on his way to _Hollywood_." He turned the video back on Link. "Link, I'm helping you document-ate. Where are we right now?"

Link read off the green highway sign ahead. "I-70 toward Columbia –Columbia, Missouri, not Colombia like the country."

"Or Columbia, Ohio," Rhett added, "This is Missouri!"

"This is so dumb, man," Link said.

"Oh, no, you'll thank me later. Someday when you're thinking about this trip, and trying to remember the name of that freakishly tall hitchhiker you offered to drive across three states, you'll remember hey! I documented that trip."

"And then I'll remember your name again," Link concluded,

"Yes,"

"And what's your name again?"

" _Rhett_ ," he said slowly. "R-H-E-T-T,"

"Thanks –and that's for just in case future me doesn't remember how to spell, either, right?" Link said with a smirk.

"Yup!"

 

#

There was something about Rhett that invited trust. Perhaps it was due to the quickly apparent inverse ratio between his height and his meanness, or perhaps it had something to do with the way Rhett was alternately tranquil and quiet with thought, then boisterous and talkative. In any case, by noon on the second day of their meeting and the third day of Link's trip, he felt as though he had known Rhett for most of his life.

And there were two things about Rhett that he knew for certain already: one, Rhett was _always_ hungry, and when he ate, he made the habit of exaggerating his appreciation for his food.

When they stopped for gas and snacks just over the Kansas state border, Link became almost certain that Rhett was only moaning over Slim Jims because Link had made a fuss the night before about the ribs. In Link's defense, he thought no one should _ever_ make _slurping_ noises while sucking at the end of a bone.

The second thing that Link realized about Rhett was that once comfortable with his surroundings, he sang. Constantly.

As they drove along the rural highway stretch between Kansas City and Wichita, Rhett began humming under his breath in between handfuls of trail mix. Soon, his hum turned to words.

Link raised his eyebrows. "Really? Boyz II Men?"

Rhett replied loudly, " _Although we've come to the eeeend ooof the roooad, still I can't let you go_!"

"Rhett!" Link laughed, "Pipe it down"

"-What's that? _It's unnatural_ , _you belong to me, I belong to you…_ come on, Link," Rhett said, "You totally know this song, man. It's classic road trip song material,"

"I don't know about _that_ ," Link said. His hands were shaking a little and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can't really sing anyway"

"- _IIIII've haaaad the time of my liiiife,"_ Rhett belted, voice unbelievably low.

"Dangit, Rhett," Link said, but on a whim, burst out in a falsetto: " _And I owe it all to yooou,"_ he sang.

Rhett cheered and continued, and that was how Link found himself singing half of That _Dirty Dancing_ Song at the top of his lungs as he sped across America.

 

 

"What's in Hollywood, anyway?" Rhett asked. It was mid-afternoon and he was fiddling around with the camcorder again. "Are you gonna make movies with this video camera out there?"

Link stared at the road ahead. "I dunno," he said finally. "I'm hoping I'll find something in Hollywood once I get there, you know? Gregg –my roommate –suggested I… go find my answers."

"Sounds like a wise guy," Rhett joked. Then he asked genuinely, "So you're hoping for some kind of –of guidance? Well, what's your problem, man? Lay it on me. I can be the answer shepherd to your question goats."

"Goats?"

"Yeah," Rhett said, "Goats are cooler than sheep. Come on, brother, let me help you."

Link, who had not looked away from the windshield, chewed at his bottom lip. "It's nothing, just dumb stuff. I think too much, I guess. Well, I know I think too much. It's a problem." He gave a nervous chuckle, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Rhett was quiet for a moment, and Link heard the soft chime of the camcorder powering off. "I have a degree in engineering," Rhett said slowly, "It's okay, don't get me wrong. I would say I'm fairly knowledgeable about what I do, but I wouldn't say, necessarily, that engineering is my _passion_ , though. I'm not _passionate_ about engineering. You went to film school, Link, and I would guess to say that people don't go to film school unless they really care about what they're studying. Is making movies or whatever what you like to do?"

"Yes," Link said, "I mean, of course –but what if it's a mistake? What if I end up doing –whatever, working on a production crew –and I just –I just never make anything out of it. What's the big doggone picture?"

"So this is an existentialist crisis?" Rhett asked.

"I said it was dumb."

"No, it's not –it's not _dumb._ I _personally_ can't identify with your point of view, but I don't think it's stupid. Why shouldn't you worry about the future? Why shouldn't you be scared?" Rhett's voice rose as he was getting worked up about the matter.

"Now, hold on," Link said hastily, "I'm not _scared"_

"-Whatever!" Rhett said, "If you _were_ –that's nothing to be ashamed of. We're young and we're still not sure what to do with the rest of our lives. So what? I don't think there should be anything _wrong_ about that."

Link's chest felt tight all of a sudden, and swallowing became difficult. "Oh," he managed, "That's –wow, that's pretty deep, man,"

"I dunno," Rhett said, sounding sheepish at once. "I guess so. I just think, like, don't be too disappointed if you don't have some huge epiphany when you get to California. If you're willing to drive across the whole country just to make sure you're following the right thing, doesn't that mean it _is_ the right thing? 'Cause you cared enough to go all that way?"

They fell into a thoughtful quietness.

Rhett seemed so certain in his perspective of the world, and he was only a couple of months older than Link. Had someone else given Rhett words of wisdom before for him to adopt as his own thoughts?

In college, most of the best advice Link had ever received had come from Gregg, but all that had mostly been to do with tricks and hacks for life in general –for example, Gregg was the one to introduce Link to the 'One Toilet Brush Cleans All' rule. So, when Gregg said "Go to, I dunno, Hollywood", it had sounded like the best option.

Now, in the middle of Kansas, Link wasn't sure it was. Life wasn't a movie with clear cut resolutions. Rhett was right about at least one thing: Link was probably setting himself up for disappointment.

He would probably get to California, stare up at the white 'HOLLYWOOD' sign, and think nothing –or at least, nothing new.

Link was drawn out of his thoughts by the happy chiming of the camcorder starting a new recording. "Oh, come on, I don't want to be filmed right now…" he complained.

"No," Rhett insisted, "This needs to be documented! Look at me, Link,"

"I'm driving!" Link had been making a conscious effort not to look at Rhett for at least five minutes now.

"Road's straight, it's not going anywhere," Rhett said, "Come on, just for a second."

When Link turned his head, Rhett's face was obscured by the camcorder anyway. "What?" Link sighed. He looked back to the road. They were about fifteen miles out of Wichita and the four lane interstate was forking up ahead.

"Now, this is going down in recorded history," Rhett said, "So that means it's real and you can't take it back. Link: what made you want to study film production?"

"It's general media production, Rhett,"

"No stalling. What do you like about media production, Link? What's so great about it? Why did you decide to spend four whole years of your _life_ studying it?"

"I –I don't know," Link said, raising his voice a little in response to Rhett's demanding tone, "I picked it because I like it –I like trying to figure out the best way to capture a scene, or set it up, or deciding what will look best for the final cut –I like being in charge of a project that can –can really _say_ something, or can just be stupid and silly and make people smile or talk about it –I just like it, dang. Happy?" Link knew that his brow was furrowed and that he was scowling just a little. When he glanced sideways, he saw that Rhett had lowered the camcorder and had his lips pressed tight together in what he probably thought was a good suppression of a smile.

"Stop that," Link said.

Rhett just grinned.

 

#

They ate an early dinner at a Steak N' Shake, seated across from each other in the cherry-red vinyl booths. Rhett's legs bumped against Link's periodically, and halfway through the meal, Rhett seemed to have given up trying to avoid Link's legs, because he simply rested his knees against Link's.

At first, Link looked up, thinking that perhaps Rhett was trying to get his attention, but Rhett was heavily invested in the act of dragging his fries through ketchup. The polite thing to do, Link supposed, would be to just move his leg to the side a little without saying anything, but then another second passed, and Link hadn't moved. Rhett ate another French fry, oblivious to Link's stare, and slowly, Link lowered his gaze to his own plate. _Well, it's not hurting anyone_ , he thought, and relaxed his legs against Rhett's.

 

#

"Really? You don't wanna stop anywhere on the way?" Rhett said.

"Sight-seeing costs money, man," Link groused, "And the point of a driving isn't to _stop_ all the time. You should just go where you want to go, no distractions."

" _That_ is a _lie_ ," Rhett declared, "You stopped at Butt Drugs, didn't you?"

"Yeah, 'cause it's _Butt Drugs_ ," Link said, "And there was a huge old sign, right on the highway,"

"That's sight-seeing,"

"And it didn't cost a thing,"

"You bought a key chain, I saw you. You bought a _souvenir_."

"It's _Butt_ Drugs, Rhett! _Butt. Drugs._ That's unusual. If I wanted to go to an art museum, I would go to one in Raleigh. I don't need to go to one somewhere else. They all have art in 'em don't they?" Link shrugged. "Look, I just don't see the point of sight-seeing in general. You go somewhere, take a picture, get a T-shirt, and leave."

"It's the _experience,_ man," Rhett said.

"You're going to the Grand Canyon. What're you going to do there? Nothing! You can't. You're gonna go there, maybe get a picture, and then it'll be time to go home. If I want to see the Grand Canyon, I could look it up."

"Man, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Musta left it at Butt Drugs," Link said with a snort.

Rhett sighed long-sufferingly and turned to stare out his window. "Tourists everywhere are crying for you, Link," he said, "Crying and taking pictures."

 

 

There was one motel by the interstate passing by Groom, Texas, where Rhett and Link arrived near nine-thirty in the evening.

Link trudged into their room for the night and immediately flopped face down on the far bed. "Jeez, I feel like my eyes are about to fall out," Link muttered. He turned his head to the side to avoid pressing his eyelids against the glass of his lenses. Already, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy, and with a content sigh, Link gave in to his weariness.

Within a second, he was asleep.

It was the sort of slumber that seemed so deep that when Link awoke, he did so slowly, opening his eyes without moving, trying to understand the reality that he had completely forgotten about.

There was a glow of light from somewhere in the room in front of him, and Link quickly realized that it was a small T.V set, blurry because Link's glasses had been removed at some point while he was asleep.

From the low sound from the television, it sounded as though the news was on.

Link could make out Rhett's blurred figured on the bed to his right, stretched out on his stomach and watching the screen. "What time is it?" Link croaked, fumbling for his glasses, which, it turned out, were folded on the nightstand between the beds.

Rhett looked over, expression brightening. "Oh, hey. It's almost eleven."

" _Eleven_? Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" Link said, scrambling up. The curtains of the motel room were drawn shut, blocking out all light from outside.

"Dude, you were _out_. You've been driving so much, I figured you should get a good night's rest." Rhett said. He stood, moving toward the covered window, "I was gonna wake you up at noon, though, if you didn't get up before that."

Link paused, blinking rapidly. "Oh. I –thanks, Rhett. That was thoughtful of you."

Rhett grinned. "Yeah, well. I'm a thoughtful guy, Link." And then he pulled back the curtain, and Link fell back from the sudden, blinding light with a shriek.

His face still buried in the dark safety of the bed sheets, Link could hear Rhett's thunderous laughter across the room, and he would have found it odd, if he'd stopped to think about it just then, that he could _feel_ it as well, reverberating through his bones and spreading a wave of warmth through his body.

 

#

It turned out, while Link had been sleeping, Rhett had gone out once to gather pamphlets from the motel office. The brochures were all at least ten years old, and advertised attractions further down the way, near Amarillo.

Link, once showered and changed, sprawled loose-limbed on Rhett's bed, where a collection of the aforementioned brochures were scattered. They had decided, since it was already midday, that they would drive the hour toward Amarillo and – _fine, Rhett_ –sight-see.

"There's… Palo Duro Canyon," Link said, "How's that? It's a canyon. Not the Grand Canyon, but still a canyon. The 'Grand Canyon of Texas'." He held out the brochure to Rhett, who was sitting off the edge of the bed near the end, eyes fixed on the television screen. "Rhett?"

"Yeah, I saw that," Rhett said, still watching the weather report on screen, "D'you wanna go there?"

"Do I wanna go see a ditch?" Link snickered. "I mean, sure, man."

Rhett didn't say anything, and Link looked at the weather report, too. There wasn't anything too interesting about it, and he wondered if Rhett was just lost in thought, and if so, what he was thinking about. Link made a new attempt at conversation, "Have I mentioned that I wanted to be a weatherman when I was younger?"

Rhett turned to stared down at Link, his eyebrows raised, "Really?"

"Yeah. Just the weather man, though. I just wanted to _say_ the weather…" And as Link explained and Rhett responded with a variety of laughter and faces, he felt a small sense of relief that the easy companionship between them had been reasserted.

 

 

At Palo Duro Canyon State Park, there was a red, sand-rock formation known as the Lighthouse for its straight, towering shape at the end of a cliff.

At the end of the hiking trail out to the formation, Link held his camcorder in front of him, taking sweeping shots of the green-speckled desert valley below the Lighthouse before turning toward the Lighthouse.

Rhett stood, his back to Link, staring up at the structure in wonder. The Lighthouse trail only extend to a ledge just above the mesa that jutted out into the valley as the Lighthouse's platform, but even from a distance, Link had to admit –it was a pretty big rock.

"You're almost as tall as it, Rhett," Link joked.

Rhett turned, declaring, "That's pretty cool, man. Nature just –just formed that perfect tower. That's amazing…" he waved at Link, "Come on, let's take a picture,"

"This is a _video_ recording," Link reminded him.

"Yeah, whatever, we'll record it, then. Even better. Get in here."

Link stood at Rhett's side, then, their shoulders knocking together, and he raised the camcorder in front of them. "Where are we, Rhett?" he asked gamely,

"Palo Duro Canyon, Texas," Rhett said, grinning. He waved at the camcorder, "The weather's great here –skies are cloudless. whoever's watching this –and I guess that's you, Link –it's a great day out here today. A great day for sight-seeing, wouldn't you say, Link?"

"Yeah, ah- _mazing_ ," Link snorted. He stepped away and back behind the camcorder. "Man, if this is what you're like at the Grand Canyon of _Texas_ , I wonder what you'll be like at the _real_ Grand Canyon."

"We're experiencing nature's miracles, Link!" Rhett clapped a hand on Link's shoulder, and then quickly pulled his hand away, turning. "Come on –let's go check out the _gift shop_."

 

 

"You know, I'm glad I met you," Rhett said, later as they drank cola, sitting on the picnic tables out front of the park's visiting center.

Link's heart thumped oddly and he forced laugh. "Gee, thanks, man,"

"No, I mean it," Rhett said determinedly, "I'm not embarrassed to say it. We're friends now. Three days ago, I wouldn't know you from Adam, but now we're pretty good friends. This is the stuff cross-country road trips are made of, brother!" He was looking Link directly in the eyes, which –Link couldn't remember the last person who'd done that for so long. Maybe Julie, his last girlfriend from college.

"This prolonged eye contact is uncomfortable," Link blurted out.

Rhett looked away, laughing awkwardly to match Link. "Right," he said, "Uh, I'm just sayin', you know? This has been a real sort a' life experience."

"Yeah," Link said. A thought flashed through his mind: _Want to keep going with me beyond the Grand Canyon_? It was a stupid, presumptuous thought, so Link said nothing, and took another swig of his cola.

They had hiked around the trails of Palo Duro Canyon for a majority of the early afternoon, and when their cola cans were empty, they headed back to Link's car, driving back toward Amarillo and onto the interstate toward New Mexico.

Assuming they stopped another night somewhere between Albuquerque and Flagstaff, they'd reach the Grand Canyon by the next day's noon, and there they would part ways. Link would continue on toward Los Angeles, and Rhett, presumably would have his fun and then find his way home –or somewhere else. Would it be safe? What if he couldn't find rides home?

Link's grip tightened on the steering wheel, so much so that his knuckles began to turn white. He glanced sideways to where Rhett was reclining in the passenger seat, elbow resting against windowsill and head tilted sideways so he could watch the world pass by outside, and Link absently thought that Rhett looked nice right there, that his profile was striking against the blue of the sky outside—

 _Oh my Lord_ , Link thought as his mind caught up with his thoughts. He felt abruptly hot around the collar, and his palms began to sweat. His heart thumped in his chest, as though beating to get out.

He glanced from Rhett to the windshield and back again. _No_ , he thought, _it doesn't mean anything. I was just thinking –just observing, in an objective way._ It was just a matter of thinking in terms of artistic perspective, nothing to panic over. Link knew who he was. He was a producer, a creative. It was how he looked at the world. No need to dwell on it.

Link focused his eyes on the road. Two hours to Albuquerque, then another night at a motel, and then Rhett would be on his way, and… maybe Link ought to give him his e-mail address? Would Rhett lose it on the way home? Maybe Link ought to ask Rhett for _his_ e-mail. Not for any –any _weird_ reason, of course…just to keep in contact.

As the highway curved around Albuquerque, Rhett began to drum his fingers against the windowsill and hummed under his breath for some time. " _…and be a siiiiimple kind of man_ ," he sang, suddenly at full volume as he turned toward Link.

And if Link's responding laugh was a bit shaky, Rhett didn't appear to notice.

"Have you ever thought of bein' a singer?" Link asked to deflect attention away from the unsteadiness of his laugh. "I mean, you could do it. D'you play any instruments?"

"Little bit a' guitar," Rhett admitted, "But you know, there's already too many musicians tryin' to make it, without adding _me_ to the mix."

"You could keep your day job," Link suggested, "Be a musical engineer –engineer _music_ , man,"

Rhett laughed at the thought, and clapped a hand over his heart, crooning, " _Follow your heart and nothing else, and you can do this, if you try…_ "

Link felt heat flare up his neck, creeping onto his cheeks and he tore his gaze away, looking resolutely out the windshield to the stretch of road ahead. "Uh huh," he said. "Like that."

By the time they neared the border into Arizona, the sun had begun to creep toward the horizon, and Link deemed it time to pull over and find somewhere to call it a day. They exited the interstate just short of crossing states, and soon found themselves on a freeway into a quintessential desert town, complete with vertical, neon roadside signs and diners that looked to have been built in the mid twentieth century.

Then, for what Link supposed would be the last time, he sat down across from Rhett for dinner. They conversed lightly, about the town, about their food, about food in general.

The booth that they sat at was by no means small, but ten minutes after sitting down, Rhett shifted, and the toe of his shoe brushed Link's shin.

"Oh, sorry, man," Rhett said, before continuing what was becoming a very in depth comparison of types of brands of bacon.

Link's thoughts were scrambled, though, and he had trouble concentrating on the rest of Rhett's enthusiastic bacon analysis.

Under-the-table contact was _bound_ to happen, Link reasoned, Rhett's legs were long, and Link's own legs were stretched out a bit. There was nothing else to it. Link's mind was just in a weird place because of a random, meaningless thought he'd had earlier in the day –no, no! He wasn't going to dwell on it. That was _weird_ and Link wasn't _like_ that. He liked Rhett, yes, and considered him a close friend despite their short rapport. If anything, his sudden awareness of their physical proximity was brought on by the immense amount of time they were spending together so soon after meeting. It was a lot like the beginning of a new relationship, like dating—

 _No_. _Dangit, Neal, stop thinking about it!_

Link put down his burger and clenched his hands under the table, digging his nails into his palms. The pinching pain was a sharp reminder to his brain to get it together, and, calmed, Link turned his attention back to Rhett, only for his heart to startle and quicken once again.

Rhett was staring at him, having fallen quiet at some point.

"What?" Link said nervously, wondering what Rhett had noticed. "Do I have something on my face or something?"

"Nothing," Rhett said. He grinned, "You want dessert? They have banana splits here, man. _Banana splits_! Who makes those anymore?"

Link blinked in rapid succession, shoulders slumping in relief, and he said, "It's just ice cream with bananas, Rhett. I don't like bananas, anyway," which caused Rhett's eyes to widen in offense.

They did order dessert, in the end, though Link opted for a strawberry sundae over Rhett's banana split, and it became increasingly obvious to Link, as he gawked at the way Rhett's lips closed around his spoon, that his mind had no intention of letting him think about anything other than his unexplainable desire to lean across the table and –and do what? He wasn't sure, but he was certain he wasn't going to try and finish the thought. Even acknowledging the types of _thoughts_ he was having was weird, and if he thought too hard about it all, it'd just get worse, wouldn't it? And Link didn't want things to get weird between him and Rhett, not when they would be parting ways soon.

 

The motel that they checked into didn't have air conditioning, and as night fell outside, Link lay awake with the blankets of his bed kicked back, and his limbs stretched out around him like a starfish. The room was unbearably humid, and Link knew that he was sweating like a pig. Normally, he fell asleep easily, and deeply, and he wondered if Rhett was also lying awake or if the heat didn't bother him, and he was already fast asleep.

Link supposed it must have been something of the former, since, as the red numbers on the nightstand alarm clock read midnight, Link could hear Rhett's breaths, deep and steady.

Link's own breaths were at odds with Rhett's, and as a game with himself, Link tried to match his inhales and exhales to Rhett's, which he was able to do after a minute or so.

Link already knew, based on the way his shirt was clinging damply to his chest, that he was going to have to shower again in the morning. It was muggy and felt sauna-hot in the room around him, but with every deep breath in and out, Link's eyelids felt heavier, and so he drifted off to sleep like that, each breath synced with Rhett's.

 

#

The water turned off in the bathroom and Rhett emerged in a cloud of steam, wearing fresh clothes and skin still a little damp and glowing the way skin did just after showers. He grinned when he saw that Link was awake and strolled over, a particular grace to his steps, before sinking down on the bed next to him.

Link blinked, startled by Rhett's closeness, sure that he should have stopped his approach at least two feet away.

"'Morning," Rhett said, his voice low and his eyes locked with Link's. He was just inches away, so close that Link could smell the cheap soap on Rhett's skin and the mint toothpaste on his breath, and Link wondered vaguely what had brought this on –not that he was seriously complaining, in fact, it was nice. He could feel the heat coming off Rhett's hand where it came up to rest on Link's shoulder to push him onto his back.

Rhett crawled over Link with a deliberate slowness that made Link's breath catch in his chest, and, straddling Link's thighs, leaned in, bracing on arm over Link's head while the other came to rest on Link's hip.

Rhett's face was so close to Link's face then that their noses were almost touching.

"I'm going tuh issyuh," Rhett said,

Link blinked.

Rhett's gaze did not waver, "Mm guntuhiss... mmgutissss…" he whispered, over and over.

 

#

Link startled awake, his pulse racing and his skin sticky with sweat.

He half sat up, reaching over to the nightstand to shove on his glasses and with a wave of relief, saw that Rhett was still fast asleep on the bed across from him, his limbs splayed out in all directions and the side of his face pressed into his pillow.

Link remembered the snake-like grace of the Rhett in his dreams and the dark look in his eyes and laughed. The real Rhett would never look at Link that way, or move with that seductive purpose. It was laughable in retrospect, what his mind could come up with, and Link gave another short laugh as his climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

He took a quick shower that was slightly colder than what he preferred, but when he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt totally awake and sound of mind, and his dream was just a weird fact in his brain that was trying to bury.

By the time that Link had finished getting as close a shave as was possible with his gas station bought razor, Rhett has stumbled his way out of bed.

He passed Link, and stopped in the doorway of the bathroom to stare at Link with bleary eyes.

"'Morning," Link said, quelling the slight nervousness that welled up within him. _It was just a dream_ , he told himself.

Rhett smirked. "You've got shaving cream on your ear, dude," he said finally, and then closed the door.

 

 

They were on the road again by ten o'clock, en-route to Flagstaff with the A.C on full blast in the car.

In under an hour, they had passed over the Arizona state border, and as they sped down the interstate, the desert around them began to turn red.

Rhett made a game of pointing out what he saw in some of the red rock formations they passed by, which inevitably led to him singing a song about everything he saw.

Like in New Mexico, the towns that populated the countryside were far and between, separated by huge stretches of desert, and when Rhett and Link did reach a town, it often appeared white and dry, and Link knew that the moment he got out of the car, he would feel the heat of the day wash over him, and no matter how short of a time he spend outside, the car would be boiling inside when he returned, feeling as though he had been doused in sand.

And yet, by either one of their suggestion, Link and Rhett stopped at every single town and landmark they came upon, braving the arid climate in order to take a look around at local things of interest.

When there wasn't anything to look at, Link or Rhett took up the camcorder to give one another rambling interviews about their surroundings.

It was by this method that a three hour drive was nearly doubled, and by the time they saw the first sign notifying them of the exit into Flagstaff, it was mid-afternoon.

Link met Rhett's eyes in the rearview mirror. They hadn't spoken about what the plan was once they reached their destination, but as they approached Flagstaff, their seemed to be an increasing sense of reluctance in the air between them.

Rhett picked up the camcorder and turned it on. "We're arriving at Flagstaff pretty soon," he announced, "And then we're gonna have to figure out how to get up to the Grand Canyon, but I think the real question is: Link, are you going to take this opportunity to see the Grand Canyon with your good friend, Rhett?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Link could see Rhett turning the camera on him. His heart thudded in his chest, unexpectedly anxious, but Gosh –it wasn't like Rhett was asking him to the _prom_ or anything! _Pull it together, Neal_. "Well, you know," Link said, keeping his voice steady, "You can't just drive up to the Grand Canyon and not take a look. Yes, Rhett, I'll go to see the Grand Canyon with you."

"Alright," Rhett said, "Last stop for Rhett and Link: the Grand Canyon."

 

 

The drive up to the park was fairly traffic free, though Link was still driving up after a trail of other cars. By comparison, the cars going back down to Flagstaff were stalled in an inexplicable traffic jam in the next lane.

Link and Rhett paid the entrance fee at the South Rim Entrance, got a map of the park, and proceeded to drive along the road bordering the canyon. It seemed as though the South Rim was less of a destination, because they drove slowly with very few cars passing them by.

They pulled onto the shoulder of the road where a small parking lot had been established for one of the viewing ledges that existed along the rim of the canyon. Camcorder in hand, Link and Rhett trekked across the short area before the viewing platform, which was deserted except for them.

"I didn't realize you could get so close to the rim here," Link commented, "And there's barely any barrier,"

"Oh yeah," Rhett said, "I definitely saw a couple of guys back there lying out on the edge past the fences…Wow."

A full view of the canyon below had just come into view, and Link could see everything from the huge drop into the canyon to the red-brown valley that stretched miles across to the cliffs making up the other side of the canyon. "We've made it," Link said, joking, "The world's largest ditch."

"Don't fall," Rhett teased, even as he edged closer to the rim to look directly at the valley below them. "Man, I'm kinda 'fraid of heights."

"You're six foot seven, dude," Link said incredulously.

"I know, but the bigger you are, the greater the fall…" Rhett leaned in a little more.

"Whoa, whoa –careful, Rhett!" Link reached out, grabbing Rhett by the upper arm just as he began to teeter, and yanked him back from the ledge.

They staggered back, Link's feet tripping over each other, and he toppled over, dragging Rhett with him.

They tumbled to the ground, coming to a stop with a grunt, Link on his back and Rhett next to him on his side, and for a moment, they lay in stunned silence, each breathing hard.

Rhett rolled over slightly, turning to stare down at Link, his light blue eyes wide with surprise and concern. It was in that split second as they gazed at one another that Link saw mirrored in Rhett's eyes the realization that they were situated mere centimeters width apart.

"You alright, man?" Rhett said, unmoving.

Link made a small noise that might have been a startled laugh but got stuck in his throat. "Yeah," he whispered.

And then –and when he thought about it later, Link wouldn't be able to say for certain who made the first move –they were kissing, frantically and open-mouthed and _sloppily_ , by all measures. It shouldn't have seemed as world-shattering as it did, but Link was twenty-one years old and had kissed a grand total of three girls in his time, one of which was his high school girlfriend, and the other of which was his college girlfriend. Rhett's mouth moving hot and wet against his was damn near mind-blowing, and was enough to send shivers all up and down his body and make him reach up and twist his fingers into the front of Rhett's shirt to bring him closer yet.

When they finally broke apart, it was to breathe. Link's head fell back hard against the ground, and he lay panting, his head light.

Rhett moved to rest his forehead against Link's shoulder and he spoke up in a hoarse voice, which was further muffled against Link's shirt. "Oh, Gosh."

Link silently agreed. His blood was still singing in his veins, and as his thoughts began to unscramble, he was hit with the undeniable truth of what had occurred.

Rhett slowly began to get up, and Link let go of him to stand up himself, dusting off his clothes.

Rhett's lips were kiss swollen, his shirt rumpled, and Link suspected that he didn't look any more put together

"Uh," Link said. His eyes fell on the camcorder, which had fallen from his hands and lay in two parts on the ground nearby, the monitor screen snapped clean off. He bent over to pick up the pieces before straightening up to meet Rhett's eyes.

They stared at each other in dumb silence for a moment, and then Rhett's lips twitched and he began to giggle nervously, a sound so unexpected from him that Link began to laugh as well.

"Sorry about your camera," Rhett said when they had begun to calm down.

Link shook his head. "I guess it was kinda old, anyways," he said.

"And, uh, thanks for grabbing me."

"Sure."

Rhett turned and looked out across the Grand Canyon, which moments earlier seemed breath-taking in its vastness. Now, Link thought it simply appeared large and empty in a way that made him feel somehow weary.

"So, what do you think?" Link asked. "Now that you've seen it?"

Rhett's eyes scanned the horizon. "It's nice," he said distantly. "Not what I imagined, but not worse, I guess." He looked back at Link, his expression unreadable. "I think I'd like to go home now."

Link blinked. "Are you sure? We haven't been here that long"

"-I know, but I…"

"No, it's fine, I can drive us, um"

"-Back to Flagstaff," Rhett said. "There was a bus station near the visitor's center."

"Okay. Ah –Rhett –are you –are we okay here?" Link wondered.

Rhett gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm just… homesick all a' the sudden, I guess. Do you mind?"

Link shook his head. "Let's go."

They didn't talk for most of the drive back toward Flagstaff, Rhett staring out the windshield, seemingly lost in thought for that time, and Link unsure of how to break the silence, or even if he wanted to. He was half surprised that he had it in him to drive, certain that he ought to be breaking down or panicking.

The fact was that Link didn't know _what_ to think. In film school, there were a couple of guys and girls who were widely accepted by all as being queer, though the individuals themselves were not always upfront about it. Link liked to believe that his college experience had expanded his view of the world, and had informed him on the truths behind some of the beliefs that he had been led to hold due to his upbringing in rural North Carolina.

Still, Link hadn't ever given much thought to being gay or anything _himself_. He still liked girls, didn't he? But he'd also liked kissing Rhett. Thinking of Rhett, he wondered if similar thoughts were passing through Rhett's mind, or if Rhett was used to kissing men, and he was thinking about something else. He'd laughed, afterward, so he couldn't be disgusted, could he? But if he wasn't, why did he want to leave so quickly?

 

 #

The sun was setting when they entered the city, splashing orange rays across the brown-brick buildings that lined the streets and blinding Link with every flash of light reflecting of street signs and shop windows.

He pulled to a stop at the Greyhound bus station and cut the engine. "Here we are."

Rhett opened the passenger side door and climbed out, stretching his legs. "Thanks. Would you pop the trunk?"

"Sure." Link heard Rhett go around the car and pull his duffel bag out and moments later, he appeared at Link's window, which he quickly rolled down.

"I'm gonna check the times and the ticket prices," Rhett told Link. "I'll be right back."

"I could just come with you," Link began, but Rhett waved a hand as if to say _nah, it's cool_.

"I'll just be like, five minutes. Then we can maybe get something to eat, right? And I need to give you my phone number, so we can stay in touch." He grinned crookedly. He was leaning in close to the window, his body language relaxed, and Link knew he must have been projecting the tension in the car earlier.

"What, d'you wanna leave today, man?"

"I'm running a little low on cash, buddy," Rhett said with a small laugh. "I probably got enough for a one way ticket home –and I don't want charity or nothing," he added.

Link's shoulders slumped a little, "Okay, then. I'll wait up."

Rhett looked like he was about to add something else, and Link wondered briefly if Rhett might kiss him again. They hadn't talked about what had happened. Instead, Rhett straightened up and swung his duffel over his shoulder. "Be right back," he called, jogging toward the bus station. Link could see four great charter buses sitting in wait on the other side of the low building that held the ticket office, and he watched as Rhett turned and hurried across the parking lot, and disappeared through the doors of the station.

He waited, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and wondered where they ought to grab dinner later. McDonalds? Rhett would eat anywhere with a decent burger, really. Link laughed a little to himself and hummed tunelessly under his breath.

Five minutes came and went, and he waited, concern growing with every passing minute. One of the buses left the station. Link clenched his fists, paranoia and worry setting in. Maybe there were a lot of people in the station and Rhett had to wait to go up to the information desk or something, he told himself.

The sun was inching down past the horizon and all around him, the world was orange and yellow, as if everything had caught fire.

And then, just as Link began to feel the stomach-turning hurt of rejection, Rhett emerged out of the station, jogging back toward the car.

"Hey," Link began, smiling.

"There's a bus leavin' in _five_ minutes to Oklahoma City," Rhett blurted. "I bought a ticket."

"Oh."

"Link, I wanted to say goodbye, man." Rhett reached into the car, clapping Link shoulder. "And you know, good luck in Hollywood. When you make a movie or somethin' –I'll go to the first show and tell everyone how great you are."

Link blinked, puzzled for a moment before he remembered the original purpose of his journey cross-country. "Oh. Thanks, man."

Rhett stared at Link for a moment, like he was trying to remember something. "Thanks for everything," he said. "Maybe I'll see you around –oh, dang!" he said as a tinny female voice came over a P.A system on the bus station building, announcing the impending departure of the bus to Oklahoma. He turned back to the window and lurched forward, cupping Link's face and crushing his lips to Link's in a scorching kiss.

Link gave a high-pitched whimper that had Rhett chuckling as he pulled away, breathless. "G'bye, Link," he said, already moving away.

"Bye, Rhett!" Link yelled after him. He half got out of the car, watching Rhett race back toward the buses, and he could feel that there was a smile on his face.

Rhett disappeared once more through the sliding doors of the bus station, and Link could see a minute later a bus pulling out of the station.

He fell back into his seat with a dopey smile still on his face and stared dazedly out the windshield to the street beyond the chain-link fence around the parking lot, and watched the cars rush by, wincing each time the warm light of the sun glinted into his eyes.

Link looked away, seeing spots, and waited for his vision to adjust to the dimmer lighting of the inside of his car. His gaze fell on the broken pieces of his camcorder, still up on the dashboard even in their ruin, and looking about the car, Link was struck by two things: one, it felt cold and empty without someone else sitting beside him; two, Rhett had forgotten to pass on his phone number.

The warm sensation in his belly turned sour and with a shock, Link thought, _I'll never see him again_.

He stared out across the parking lot toward the bus station, watching numbly as the sun finally disappeared from view and night began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hi, everyone! WyrdSister here. I joined the ranks of the Mythical Beasts in late December of last year (2015) after discovering GMM through the YouTubers React series. The first GMM I watched was actually the “What If” episode with Daniel Radcliffe, and just thinking about my first impressions of Rhett and Link is kind of odd, since I can remember thinking clearly that I thought Link looked extremely bizarre with his dark hair and blue, blue eyes. Rhett reminded me of one of the Narcs (student supervisors) at my high school that everybody calls “Wolf Man” (his real name is unclear to us). 
> 
> _Anyway_ , long story short, I binge-watched most of GMM over the break (since there were only two episodes left in the week by the time I started watching), watched all of the R&L main channel sketches, and listened to a majority of the Ear Biscuit podcasts. After all this, and as an avid fanfic reader and writer, I wanted to contribute something to the community –or Kommunity, I guess I should say, and it actually took me quite a while to formulate a story for Rhett and Link that wouldn’t die halfway through its writing. I played around with some AUs, including a Reincarnation AU, but I eventually settled on this fic, which I guess is really just an examination of Link and Rhett’s lives, had they never met in first grade. 
> 
> As you can probably tell, there isn't all _that_ much plot going on in this fic so far, but hopefully that will change. I have my mind set on creating around six chapters for this fic, but that's also subject to change depending on how everything translates from my outline to the actual chapters. I’m not sure if all of the rest of the chapters will be as long as this first one, since _this_ chapter wasn’t supposed to be that long, but I guess you can probably tell, if you’re still reading this, that I have a predisposition of wordiness (I promise the notes will be much shorter in the future).
> 
> Lastly, I hope that you enjoyed this, and that my characterization of Rhett and Link weren’t totally off, and that their dynamic was believable. Also, this _is_ a Rhett/Link fic, so there will be romance in the, uh, possibly _distant_ future. 
> 
> I will try to get updates in at least once every two weeks (it took me two weeks to churn this monster out).
> 
> Thank you all for reading this! Any comments would be lovely :)
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT 2/24/16: Okay, obviously I didn't update within two weeks -really sorry about that. I failed to remember finals week was up the week I meant to post, and then a bunch of personal stuff happened in my life. I'm very much still invested in this fic, and hope that y'all will be patient with me. -_-'' I'll get chapter two up ASAP! Thank you for your understanding, everyone!
> 
>  
> 
> **Some more notes:**
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>  
> 
> * This chapter is brought to you by [ Rhett’s appreciation of food!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glm_wbmLO7U)
> 
> *Songs featured in this chapter:  
> [ “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BQLE_RrTSU)  
> [ “Simple Man”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHQ_aTjXObs)
> 
> * One of my favorite GMM episodes (although, it technically isn’t a GMM episode, I think) is TRAIL MIX: An Argument, which helped inspire this chapter. The bickering about trail mix is so good, and Link seemed like he was about to laugh the whole time. 
> 
> *I am almost certain there is no advertisement for the exit of Butt Drugs off the I-64, but _shhh_ … I am from Michigan and we advertise everything. The Michigan interstate is just one long line of billboard pleas to _EXIT NEXT, oh God, please exit!_
> 
> *Anyone catch that Porn at Target reference?
> 
> *The New Mexican town where Link and Rhett spend the night is Gallup.
> 
> *Side note: I have been watching _Buenos Y Míticos Días_ and there is something infinitely amusing about watching Rhett and Link being dubbed over in a language I don’t understand with voices that aren’t their own. I love the voice actors so much. Especially when they do their versions of the huge number of just sounds Link and Rhett make in every video. Oh God, I love it so much. It brings me unending joy and makes me think about the alternate universe where Spanish GMM is the original channel instead. Side side note: some of the crew’s laughter is also dubbed over. It’s amazing. This has been a totally unintentional advertisement for _Buenos Y Míticos Días._
> 
> *Specific RandL facts used in this chapter: Rhett had both ears pierced as a young adult, Rhett typically sleeps on his side, Rhett is originally from Georgia (born in Macon), Rhett does indeed love barbecue, and Link hates bananas.


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